


Weekend Away

by Nutriyum_Addict



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Bubble Bath, Candy, Drunk Sex, F/M, Hotel Sex, Road Trips, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-02 00:09:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6542377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nutriyum_Addict/pseuds/Nutriyum_Addict
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bookworm03 prompted: Their first weekend away together. So, this is Leslie and Ben, sneaking away together for a weekend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weekend Away

It turns out that the Grandville Hotel and Spa is completely booked for the weekend.

Honestly, Leslie thinks, it’s probably just as well because that particular hotel is only 10 miles from Pawnee and it’s possible that maybe Chris would ride by on his bike or something and catch them?

Right. So, then she searches other places with the same name, because that’s a cute thing.

The _Granville Hotel_ is in Ireland and the _Granville Island Hotel_ is in Vancouver, so those two are probably out for a weekend trip.

Finally, Leslie comes across the town of Grandville, Michigan and that’s where they decide to spend their first weekend together.

Ben gives her a look when she mentions a bed and breakfast that looks nice.

“You mean like with doilies and German muffins and a lot of cats?”

Leslie laughs at his confused expression. “No. No. This one looks a lot different than The Quiet Corn. This one looks classy,” she says, gesturing towards the screen of her laptop.

“Hmmmmmm.” Ben moves closer to her on her couch, so he can put his chin on her shoulder. “Well, that room looks comfy.”

Leslie laughs when he nuzzles lazily against her neck. “Which room?”

Ben points to one of the pictures. “The one with the fireplace and the big tub right there.”

“Ohhh, the Tuscany Room does look comfy.” She clicks on it. “And the towels look really soft.”

Ben laughs against her and then kisses her neck. “They do. Also, the bed is nice and big. Alright, let’s do it.”

“Yeah,” Leslie agrees. “Let’s do it.”

* * * * *

After their sneaky exit from work early Friday afternoon, the car ride is just under four hours. They stop along the way for a quick dinner and hold hands across the table.

Leslie admits to bringing her laptop and Ben does too.

Away from Pawnee and Chris, they’re just a normal couple away for their first romantic weekend trip, she thinks. When she suggests they could even be a couple away on their honeymoon, she stops herself mid-sentence and kind of blushes.

Great. Now he’s going to run screaming from the table. It’s way too soon to pretend they’re married, Leslie tells herself. Crap on a cheese grater, she should have gone with Angela Merkel and Nicolas Sarkozy on a diplomatic mission to America that turns sexy.

Leslie tries to backtrack. “Um, sorry. That’s weird. We just starting doing this. Sorry. We don’t have to pretend we’re–”

“No. No, that’s cute. And it’ll explain why we’re hardly going to leave our room the whole weekend,” he tells her, smirking just a bit.

And really, he doesn’t look at all freaked out by her idea. He seems…kind of into it?

“Right,” she agrees, tentatively, and then decides to just keep going. “Okay. So, we’re on our honeymoon after a whirlwind romance that started in Prague and ended in Pawnee, Indiana. I was an architect working on the most important building of my career and you were my American-born assistant.”

Ben makes a face like he’s trying not to laugh. “So you’re…Czech? Oh, do you have an accent? Let me hear it.”

Leslie considers this. Accents and impressions are tricky. Ben had only managed to keep Reagan up for a few minutes that one time.

“Hmmm, okay, scratch that. We’re both American, but working on this project in Prague and we fell in love,” she tells him, getting more and more into this scenario as it gets fleshed out. “But, oh! Even though we’re miles and miles away from home, we discovered that we’re originally from the same small Indiana town.”

“And every day we would talk about home and work on the building design together and we were the best parts of each other’s day,” Ben adds.

“Yeah” she agrees, smiling. “Kimberley Wellington, award-winning architect and Michael Strong, who used to be an astronaut but then decided he wanted to change careers after conquering space.”

“And then Kimberley and Michael got married right after the design was finished,” Ben says, rubbing his thumb along her wrist in a little pattern that makes her stomach feel all warm. “And they spend their whole honeymoon in their giant bed having really great sex.”

“And in the tub,” she adds, holding up her wine glass.

Ben clinks his glass against hers. “And in the tub.”

* * * * *

They stick to the roleplay pretty long, pretending to be Kimberly and Michael for most of that whole first night and into the next morning.

Instead of eating breakfast with a bunch of strangers, Michael had talked the inn keepers into bringing them breakfast to their room.

Because, honeymooning.

At nine in the morning, Leslie manages to put on a t-shirt, but is still in bed finishing up a croissant, while Ben eats from a plate of scrambled eggs and sausage balanced on his comforter-covered lap. His hair is messy and he’s got some light scruff she needs to move in and kiss soon.

“What should we do today?”

Ben makes a face like he’s thinking it over, but then he answers pretty quickly. “Have sex on the big rug in front of the fireplace?”

“Good plan,” Leslie agrees. “But also, the downtown area looked cute. Want to go on a walk with me in a bit? Just–”

“Hold hands in public and explore the town as a couple? Yes,” he nods, moving in for a kiss. “I also know you want to go to that candy store across the street.”

“Whaaat? What candy store?” Leslie asks, knowing exactly which candy store he means.

Ben gives her a look.

“Okay, yes. I really want to go to that candy store. It said _World’s Best Fudge_ in the window. I mean, how can we pass up the world’s best fudge, Ben?”

“We really can’t,” he assures her, and then his plate is on the bedside table and she’s in his lap, kissing his happy and smiling, relaxed weekend face.

* * * * *

That night they’re in the tub for two, surrounded by hot water and vanilla-scented bubbles, sipping glasses of champagne.

After snacking on butterscotch fudge all afternoon, Leslie’s also managed to eat about half of the candy off of the candy necklace Ben bought for her earlier and she’s just about to turn around and start in on the necklace around his neck. But, then his fingers seek her out and start wandering down past her belly button.

“Why, good sir, whatfor are you doing hence?” She frowns after the question is out of her mouth–-is she drunk? She might be drunk and she’s pretty sure that was a British accent.

“Well, good sexy madam, I was going to make you come forth, with my fingers in your _lady-nethers_ ,” Ben answers and then starts laughing, even as, true to his word, he parts her open with his fingers.

Her legs end up almost on top of his and she leans back, her head against his chest.

Ben’s fingers are sliding around her clit, then inside as her leg ends up even higher, up on the tub’s ledge. There’s a pattern to the way his thumb brushes her clit and one and then two fingers push inside, making her stomach drop and her toes practically curl with how good it feels.

Leslie’s trying to be quiet, even though she really wants to moan out loudly and maybe even scream.

“Oh god, this feels good,” she manages instead. “I’m trying not to be too loud.”

“You can be loud,” Ben says, and now she can even feel him, all hard behind her as she squirms and wiggles against his fingers.

“No. Room next door has kids today. We should be quiet,” she gets out, as it starts to happen.

Ben brings his other soapy, scented hand up and holds it against her mouth.

“Be loud, babe,” he whispers in her ear.

She comes practically screaming and not holding back at all, her lips right against his hand and somehow it’s even sexier that way. Sexier than Kimberley and Michael or Ronald Reagan and Margaret Thatcher or even Ruth Bader-Ginsburg.

It’s her and Ben on vacation in a big bathtub, kinda drunk and naked and surrounded by bubbles.

It’s perfect.

And afterwards, the towels are amazingly soft.


End file.
